The Finale's Prologue
by Trumpeteer34
Summary: After Batman finds one of his villains behaving much more violently, it's up to him to find a way to save Gotham. *Brief Hiatus*
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Batman, Alfred, or any other named character here. They belong to DC Comics. This was written purely for fun.

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Gotham City came into view, its silhouetted skyscrapers rising over the horizon and brightening the night sky with light pollution. How the city seemed to come more to life after the sunset was amazing…but also devastating. Much of the nightly activity that went on in Gotham in the dark was on the other side of the law...

Hence why he was out.

Batman shifted the Batmobile into another gear and sped toward the city, ready to begin the nightly patrol. From behind his dark cowl, he scanned the sky for any hint of the bat-signal. _No sign of it yet…_ Normally, he wouldn't have much of a problem with an evening when he didn't see the bat-signal, but this was the fourth night without it. He was growing a little concerned, if not a little paranoid.

"Still no sign of it, Alfred," Batman said into his radio transmitter in his dark, brooding voice. He returned his eyes to the road before him, continuing to speed toward the city limits.

"It's still early in the evening, Master Bruce," came the English-accented response from Alfred, who was sitting down in the caves beneath Wayne Manor.

Batman glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard. 11:45 PM. It was still relatively early in the night, but that fact did nothing to calm the vigilante's nerves. "I don't know, Alfred…" he began slowly after a lengthy pause. "It just seems so…unnatural. It shouldn't be this quiet, not in Gotham."

He reached the city limits of Gotham and quickly parked his vehicle in its normal hidden spot. He jumped out and raced into a darkened alley, clicking a button on his belt to engage the locks. He whipped out his grappling hook and shot it skyward. Before long, he was atop the buildings, looking out over the city and its citizens.

Nothing seemed out of place…everything appeared to be calm for the night.

He didn't buy it. Something was amiss in the vast city; he was sure of it. Yes, he knew that there were probably robberies going on here and there, but the Gotham City Police Department could easily take care of those. He felt like something greater was going on, something beyond the common burglary…

He had double-checked the patient list at Arkham before he had headed out for his patrol. There were several big-name villains out prowling the streets, plotting their next big criminal act…

…but where _were_ they? Surely they weren't _all_ lying low. He couldn't shake the suspicion and the paranoia. Something was up; he just needed to find out what.

A car alarm sounded off in the distance. The Dark Knight's eyes shifted in the direction of the noise for a moment before he continued studying the city. …_probably just some deviant teenagers, trying to steal a car and have a good time. _

A second alarm sounded in the night, clashing with the first and coming from the same direction. Batman looked off in the direction of the disturbance again. Faintly over the sound of the alarms, he could hear screams.

His eyes narrowed as his hand immediately went to the grappling hook on his utility belt. _Bingo._ He shot the hook at a building and swung into action, gliding over the streets of Gotham toward where more and more screams were beginning to sound. Amidst the screaming and car alarms came the sound of shattering glass. He was close.

"Alfred," he said into a wireless set hidden behind his mask in his ear, "call the police and tell them there is an incident around what appears to be 12th Street."

"Yes, sir."

The Caped Crusader swung around a building and landed on the ledge of a window. The flashing headlights of the cars whose alarms were going off lit and darkened the scene in a steady pattern. From the glow of the lights, he could see a few bodies, lying in pools of blood. They weren't just killed…they looked slaughtered. Shadows of civilians running away appeared and disappeared with the flashing of the lights. Screams and alarms still filled the air.

_What the Hell is happening…?_ His eyes darted around the area, searching for whoever was responsible for this horrific scene. Nothing stuck out—

Shattering glass. Something beating against a windshield…? His eyes shot to a car parked on the side of the street when a sudden glint of light caught his attention.

It was the blade of an ax, half covered in blood, caught in the flickering of a headlight for a single moment before it came down on the windshield, shattering it. At the other end of the weapon stood the perpetrator, the madman responsible for all of this.

Batman swiftly made his way to the street below, landing in a crouching position. He rose to his feet. His narrowed eyes remained on his foe, his cape hanging over the bat symbol on his chest. "Drop the ax, Hatter…"

Jervis Tetch, known in the criminal world as the Mad Hatter, stood on top of the hood of the car he was beating the windshield of. He faltered when the command rang out for him to release his weapon. His back was to the vigilante and he was slightly hunched over the broken glass. He was taking deep intakes of air, trying to catch his breath, but he said nothing.

"…and get down off the—"

Batman drew a short breath and lunged to his right as the Mad Hatter whirled around and threw his arm forward with a quick growl. The ax that had just been in Jervis's grasp flew by, nearly burying itself deep into the vigilante's chest. He landed on the concrete and turned back around. A short gasp escaped from him as he was tackled to the ground by the villain.

He felt something sharp dig into his arms where the Hatter's hands gripped him. He took a quick breath, the air going in like a hiss, before he punched Jervis off of him. He hadn't seen any other blades on him when he had confronted him…

They were on their feet like lightning, both ready for the other to pounce. They were both silhouetted by the flashing headlights, hiding their faces in shadows. Despite the poor lighting, however, the villain's hands looked off…his fingers didn't look rounded at the end…

He didn't have much time to reflect on it, however, for the Mad Hatter had sprung back into action with a short, vicious growl. The Caped Crusader dodged the blow with a jump to the side. He turned back around and was able to get another quick peek at the assailant. Tetch's clothes were torn and tattered and his enormous top hat was nowhere to be seen. Even in the darkness the enveloped them, he could see blood spatter on his blue overcoat, even a little spotted on his face— There! His fingers _did_ look pointed! What on Earth was going on?!

From his utility belt, he discretely pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He stood at the ready, waiting for anything, not entirely sure what to expect. "Jervis, just calm down—"

The Mad Hatter lunged at the masked man again. Batman shifted his body to the left and grabbed Tetch's right arm as he passed by. He slapped one of the pairs of cuffs around that wrist, keeping a firm grip on the enraged and barbarically persistent villain. With his hand still grasping Tetch's arm, he forcefully shoved him around to where they were facing each other. He quickly made a grab for his other wrist and successfully handcuffed him.

Batman's large hands planted themselves on the villain's shoulders in a rock-hard grip. "Jervis, calm down—"

He was cut short again when, out of the blue, Jervis collapsed against his chest. He was shaking and twitching like mad, his head bowed to where Batman could only see his incredibly messy pale hair. His forehead rested against the black and gold Bat-logo on his chest, his trembling hands just below. His shoulders rose and fell with each deep and shaky intake of air, still trying desperately to catch his breath.

Batman stared down at the sandy-haired man with uncertain eyes, his grip loosening. He could feel the Mad Hatter's shaking body even through the thick rubber of his suit.

"…help…" Jervis Tetch breathed frantically, his voice sounding strained. He cringed deeply, pressing against the vigilante and forcing him to take a step back. His quaking fingers, appearing to be rounded again, clawed at his chest involuntarily. "H-Help me…" He finally lifted his head and stared up at Batman.

The Dark Knight's eyes widened and a chill ran through his body. _Good Lord…_

Jervis Tetch's wide, panicked eyes locked with the vigilante's. His blue irises were spotted with red coloring. Two of his teeth had lengthened and sharpened into fangs. He stared up at him with a pleading look on his face, looking to be in incredible pain and scared out of his mind.

"Help me, _please!" _His teeth clenched tight and his fingers dug into the rubber suit as his eyes slammed shut and his back arched. He cringed and hunched over, his shaking intensifying and beginning to make pain-filled noises and gasps. He slipped past the vigilante and fell to the ground, onto his knees and fighting with all his might to control his body.

Batman stared down at him, wide-eyed. He blinked from his shocked state and reached into his utility belt. He grabbed his cape and brought it up over his nose and mouth. From his belt he pulled a small capsule and threw it to the ground. After a small shattering noise sounded, a light grey cloud of gas began to billow upward, engulfing both the Mad Hatter and the caped man.

With how heavily Jervis was breathing, it didn't take him long to lose consciousness. He fell to his side, still visibly trembling and cringing from time to time, but he was out.

A swift breeze cleared the cloud of smoke from the area. Batman unconsciously allowed his cape to slip from his fingers and fall back to his side. His eyes remained locked on the twitching villain on the ground, his mind still racing.

_'Help me.'_ What had happened to Jervis Tetch…? He had never seen the British villain in the state he was in tonight… He was a plotting and stealthy criminal…not the brutish violent type he had just witnessed.

_…his eyes…his teeth and hands…_ What the Hell was going on in Gotham City?

The Caped Crusader snapped from his thoughts and looked over toward an intersection when he heard sirens off in the distance. He pressed a button on his belt to radio his car to head to his location. If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that Jervis Tetch was much too dangerous to leave in the hands of the Gotham police.

His eyes fell back down to the Mad Hatter. _Alfred is going to love this… _

* * *

A/N: So, this is an idea I've had in my head for a few months now. I'm kind of returning to what I traditionally write about in my own stories, only trying it with Batman villains. I'll try to update weekly. Thanks for reading! Feedback is always welcome!


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own Batman (aka Bruce Wayne), Alfred Pennyworth, Jervis Tetch (aka The Mad Hatter), or any other named character here. They belong to DC Comics. This was written purely for fun.

* * *

Through the empty halls of the Wayne Manor came the steady sound of footsteps, echoing off the walls and ringing through the air beneath its high ceilings. Alfred Pennyworth stepped into the oversized living room, eyeing one of the large windows as he walked by. The night sky was pitch black out there, away from the city streets and the glow of Gotham.

Alfred blinked dully and looked to the grandfather clock against the wall across the room. 1:28 AM. It was going to be another long night…

The butler approached the clock and tugged on one of the cable pulleys. The back of the antique opened up and revealed a darkened hallway beyond the walls. He stepped through the clock and into the drastically darker environment. Once the threshold was closed again, he turned and began to descend into the depths of shadows by way of stairs.

He walked on, blinded by the blackness surrounding him entirely, with an air of confidence and tranquility. He had heard Master Bruce returning from his nightly patrol much earlier than he normally did, which could only mean that they had a long night ahead of them. He made sure he had given the caped man enough time to situate himself before he popped in.

A faint light began to dimly light the staircase from up ahead. The squeaking and screeching of bats became audible over his swift footsteps.

He finally reached the level ground of the Batcave. His eyes lifted toward where the unseen ceiling resided, up to where he could see a few bats flying freely, trying to find some stalactite to hang from. A dull blink later, he turned to face the rest of the secret lair to the "World's Greatest Detective." The Batmobile was parked in its usual spot a little ways across the cavern. His eyes strayed to the various decorations and souvenirs the Caped Crusader had acquired over his years fighting crime, ranging from a giant penny to a bullet-riddled puppet. Deeper into the cave sat a massive computer.

He found the detective, unmasked but still in costume, standing before his large computer. He turned when he heard Alfred approaching, their dark eyes meeting for a brief moment. He then turned his head toward a table across the cave, making the butler glance in that direction.

Alfred's eyes widened for a second when he saw a body on the table. He took a quick glance back at the caped man, who had returned his attention to the computer screen. A curious look appeared on the butler's face as he gazed at the table again before he began to make his way over.

The figure appeared to be strapped to the table, but was visibly still breathing. He faltered in his steps when he saw the being cringe and tense, but he was far too curious to not see who Master Bruce had decided to provide sanctuary for the night. He approached the table…

He felt his jaw slightly drop and his eyes widen. He couldn't take his eyes off of the unconscious man tethered to the surface. The Mad Hatter…this rogue gentleman the butler had only read about in police reports…was lying on the table, straps binding his legs, chest, and arms…completely _blood spattered._ The unsettling crimson stains covered what was left of his tattered white gloves and the sleeves of his blue overcoat. His entire wardrobe looked like it had been worn over decades, bits and pieces of fabric faded here and there, completely scraggly looking. Buttons were missing from his coat, as were the tips of the gloves, exposing the ends of his bloody fingers. He had an expression of pain and fear written on his face, his brow slightly furrowed despite his state of consciousness. His sandy hair was an absolute mess; locks of the blonde hair hung down over his forehead and out everywhere.

"No sarcastic comment, Alfred?" Bruce remarked from across the cavern when he saw that Alfred had been staring at the villain for a few moments in a stunned silence.

"…my…my word…" the butler began after swallowing the lump in his throat, his eyes never leaving Jervis Tetch, "…he's covered in _blood…_" He took a startled step back when the Mad Hatter cringed again. "What on _Earth_ happened out there tonight?"

Bruce Wayne slowly approached Alfred, the soft patter of his footsteps filling in the void of silence. His dark eyes remained locked on the unconscious Hatter. "He attacked me…" he responded at length.

"That doesn't sound that out of the ordinary," Alfred replied forthrightly.

"…after he attacked and butchered many other pedestrians," Bruce concluded. His eyes shifted to the butler for a moment. "_That_ is out of the ordinary," he said before he looked back to the villain when he tensed once more. "The Mad Hatter isn't one for brute strength; he likes control. What I saw out there tonight was anything but. He was vicious and relentless. He seemed mindless…like an animal, almost…" he trailed off. "He's sedated right now and should be out for another hour or so."

The caped man motioned for the tuxedo-ed gentleman to head to the massive computer across the cave. "I noticed some discolorations on his arm when I went to give him the injection, so I took a blood sample when I got here. The computer has been scanning it since. He was definitely injected with something…just need to figure out what."

Alfred's eyes went to the large computer screen for a single moment before he glanced back at Bruce. "You're trying to break down the components of what shouldn't be in his blood."

A nod confirmed the idea. "That's what I'm hoping to do." He lifted a sheet of paper up with his gloved hands as he lowered himself into his computer chair. "So far, it's only isolated one component."

"That component being…?" the butler pressed.

Bruce's eyes shifted to Alfred, half-hidden beneath angry eyebrows. "The ManBat serum," he said in a dark tone.

As his irritated eyes returned to the piece of paper, the butler's eyebrows shot upward. "I thought Dr. Langstrom was finished with his experiments…" he heard himself say. He remembered the first encounter Batman had with Dr. Kirk Langstrom, back years ago. The scientist had created a serum to genetically mutate a human being into a bat-like creature: the ManBat. He said that humanity wouldn't survive the next evolution, but bats would. Thus, he created the serum to help mankind, but it nearly destroyed him in the process.

"Apparently it's going to take more than a threat on both his and his wife's life to show him just how dangerous that serum is," Bruce growled, glaring at the print-out. "But…" His shoulders slumped, "there wasn't enough of the serum in the Hatter's blood to make him fully transform into the ManBat; it seems like the serum has been modified. It just…slightly changed his form." He turned and looked at Alfred when no response came, who stood waiting for an elaboration. "He had claws, Alfred. Claws and fangs." He looked back down at the piece of paper, his face falling from anger into an expression of slight apprehension. "I don't know what we're dealing with here…"

Alfred quickly picked up on the pessimism in Bruce's voice. His eyes shot to the dark-haired man. He knew all-too-well what happens when Bruce Wayne got into this kind of mood…and now was not the time to let a setback get the best of him, not when there was work to be done. He glanced back over to where Jervis lay. "You're sure he was injected with something?"

"Positive," Bruce replied, his eyes shifting to the butler. "The discoloration on his left arm confirms it; someone bruised him with their sloppy needle-work."

The older man looked side-long at the unmasked hero, but remained facing the Mad Hatter. "So, care to take a stab at what you think happened?"

A subtle smirk appeared on Bruce's face. Alfred knew him too well…how to help get his mind off of the more trying things. Explaining hypotheses he had concluded while being the detective he was usually helped to lift his mood. The grin quickly disappeared as he gazed back at Jervis. "From what I can tell, someone gave him some new type of serum and set him loose on the city. I highly doubt the Hatter would do this to himself. This serum greatly stimulates the subject's need for aggression and somehow genetically mutates them. Whoever created this new serum knows what they are doing, knowing how to mess with the human brain."

"Do you suppose there are any others like him?" Alfred asked without turning.

"Not yet," Bruce replied. He stood up and pulled his cowl over his eyes, "but I'm guessing that we'll be seeing more cases like this in the near future."

As Batman dropped the paper onto his desktop, Alfred turned and looked at him. "What makes you so sure?"

The Dark Knight's eyes lifted to the butler, hidden beneath the black cowl. "Tetch here is the first. My guess is that he was the guinea pig of some demented science project. Whoever unleashed their experiment out into Gotham tonight was watching, taking notes on the effects, like any scientist would. They will continue to tweak it until they are happy with the end product." He turned, his cape flowing with the movement, and began to walk toward the Batmobile. "Once that happens, we'll start seeing more and more of these cases, and it will be far worse than it was tonight." He paused. "If my theory is, by chance, correct," he added.

Alfred watched him walk off, his brow slightly furrowed with confusion. "Where are you off to now?"

"Langstrom's lab," the caped man replied over his shoulder. "I need to find out how this person got a hold of the ManBat serum." He paused before the vehicle as it opened. "Keep an eye on Tetch and keep me posted on what the computer kicks out."

"Yes sir," Alfred replied as the Dark Knight jumped into his vehicle and sped off into the night.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for a shorter chapter, but hopefully it was interesting. The plot thickens...


	3. Chapter 3

I do not own Batman, Kirk Langstrom (aka ManBat), Francine Langstrom, or any of the other named characters present. They belong to DC Comics. This was written purely for fun.

* * *

The Gotham Zoo, deep in the heart of Gotham City, was completely desolate. Then again, it was after two in the morning when Batman pulled the Batmobile up to the ticket booths. After the whole ManBat incident years ago, he hated coming here. A visit to the Gotham Zoo usually meant a chat with Kirk Langstrom…and that chat usually ended in a fight, either verbally or physically.

He stepped out of the vehicle and approached the locked front gate. He quickly picked the lock and walked through the empty recreational ground. He kept his eyes focused on the way to the Langstroms' laboratory, his mind set. He passed several barred cages, not bothering to look at the animals that were watching him. He knew his destination.

A few minutes passed in silence before he finally reached the laboratory of Kirk Langstrom. His eyes locked with one of the windows, taking note of the broken glass. He walked up to the shattered window while he retrieved his flashlight from his utility belt. He shined the light down on the ground by his feet. No glass.

_So it wasn't a break-out. _He flashed the light through the broken pane of glass down to the ground below. Sure enough, shards of glass shone in the flashlight's luminescence. _A break-in._

His eyes rose from the broken glass to the closed door on the other side of the room. Between the bottom of the door and the floor, he could see a faint light. The Langstroms weren't sleeping… He looked back up at the door as his eyes narrowed.

The laboratory itself had broken glasses and test tubes on the countertops. The workspace was completely trashed. Papers and folders littered the floor, open file cabinets thrown from their metal casing.

Batman swiftly made his way into the room and moved past the cluttered space, taking in the damage. A break-in was clearly evident now. Someone had definitely trespassed and rummaged through the entire lab, in search of…something.

His eyes lifted to the door he was walking toward. There was a light shining on the other side. He heard hushed voices beyond the door, both he recognized to be Kirk and Francine Langstrom. He also heard a news broadcast playing on a television. He pressed his ear against the door and listened.

* * *

"Kirk, you have to calm down," Francine Langstrom tried to reassure her husband. She leaned forward on the sofa cushion toward where he was sitting. "There's no guarantee that this incident had anything to do with—"

"What else could it be, Francine?!" Kirk interrupted his wife, sounding panicked. He ran his hand through his red hair and stared at the broadcast with wide eyes. "What else could it be?!"

Francine's blue eyes drifted from Kirk to the television set warily. Summer Gleeson, the redhead reporter, stood at the scene of a horrific crime, police lights flashing in the background. She stood with a microphone in hand, commenting on what had happened behind her only a few hours before. She was presently saying how the people who had been murdered had been violently attacked.

She looked back at her husband. "We've been checking the papers for the past week, honey," she said deliberately. "Why would they wait a full week before using it?"

Kirk's eyes lowered to his hands, his brow still furrowed. "I don't know…I really don't understand people." His dark eyes lifted to Francine. "They wouldn't steal it if they didn't plan on using it. It's only a matter of time…" he said with a weary sigh.

As he brought a hand up to rub his tired eyes, Francine scooted over the couch cushion to his side. She put an arm over his broad shoulders and rested her blonde head against the sleeve of his white lab coat. She waited silently and patiently until she felt his hand on her side and he hugged her close.

"We'll find out what happened," she said gently. "Don't worry. We'll find out."

The two sat quietly for a lengthy time, holding each other. Summer Gleeson continued her report. "Gotham City Police have not issued a statement yet, but they are currently investigating the graphic scene."

As the woman on the screen began to try to get an interview with Police Commissioner Jim Gordon, Kirk Langstrom went rigid. Francine felt his body tense and lifted her head. They both whirled around and looked behind them.

"Morning," Batman said mirthlessly, standing directly behind the couch where the married couple sat.

"Batman!" Francine gasped, his sudden appearance startling her. Kirk, on the other hand, didn't look surprised in the least. His brow hardened and his glance became a cold stare.

"I've been expecting you," Kirk said in an icy manner as he stood up.

The Dark Knight intently studied the scientist as he rounded the sofa. Beyond looking incredibly stressed and sleep-deprived, he looked banged up. There were a few scratches on the side of his face as well as on his hands. _Defensive wounds. He put up a fight…_

Kirk pocketed his hands in his white lab coat and stared at the vigilante. "What happened out there tonight—"

"It wasn't a ManBat creature," Batman interrupted.

Kirk visibly relaxed as an "Oh, thank God" was sighed from Francine behind the couch. He heaved a great sigh of relief, but continued to stare at Batman with worried eyes. "Well, it must have had something to do with the serum…"

The caped man gave a faint nod, but remained otherwise motionless. "Care to tell me what happened in your laboratory?"

Francine turned and stared at her husband's back with a concerned expression on her face. Kirk instantly removed one of his hands from his pocket and put it up to his face, over the scratches on his cheek. A cold sweat covered his brow. "It happened about a week ago," he began with a slight tremble to his voice. "The zoo had been closed to the public for maybe two or three hours when Francine and I heard a shattering noise in the lab. So, I went to check it out."

"I told him to just call the police," Francine remarked from the couch.

"When I went in," Kirk continued, ignoring his wife, "there were two young men rummaging through the laboratory, breaking everything in sight. I confronted them. They looked up at me, and then rushed me." His eyes lowered from the Caped Crusader, not focused on anything in the present. "They demanded the ManBat serum and the formula. When I didn't reply…"

By this time, Francine had stood and joined Kirk by his side. She stared apprehensively at the vigilante. "I came running into the lab when I heard them fighting. I saw Kirk pressed up against the wall, being beaten."

"And when they saw Francine," Kirk said, his eyes lifting back up to Batman, "they threatened to…_do_ things to her. I had no choice," he finally said, hanging his head.

The Dark Knight stared at the couple before him, reflecting on what they had just told him. "Why didn't you call the police?" he questioned.

"Once they had what they came for," Francine began, "they said that if we went to anyone, they'd be back to finish the job."

"You have to understand," Kirk said, looking up again.

"I understand that," Batman said, his form tensing slightly. "What I don't understand is why you even had the serum in the first place."

Kirk exhaled irritably, his shoulders slumping with the sigh. "Batman, I am a scientist," he tried to reason, putting his hands out in front of him. "A scientist cannot simply destroy something that big!"

"Despite it almost killing you _and_ your wife?" Batman shot back. His narrowed eyes remained locked on Kirk, but he could see Francine shifting uncomfortably in his peripheral. Kirk returned the stare with a stubborn glare of his own. An uneasy silence hung in the air between them.

Batman broke that silence after breathing a soft sigh. "That serum is dangerous, Langstrom."

"And what isn't in this city?" Kirk replied coldly, never letting the anger melt from his face.

The Dark Knight's stare instantly hardened into an icy glare at the comment.

Francine looked back and forth between the two infuriated men, a nervous look on her face. Her eyes finally settled on Batman. "…if the ManBat creature didn't do what happened out there tonight, what exactly did?"

"Someone was injected with the serum," Batman began at length, his eyes finally leaving Kirk's, "but it wasn't enough to elicit a full-blown transformation. He was just slightly mutated."

The anger that was on the scientist's face was half-replaced with confusion. "That can't be…the serum never did anything like that. It was all or nothing."

Batman looked back at Langstrom, taking note of that reflection. He pulled his cape tighter around him. "I'll be back if I have more questions," he said. He turned his back on the couple to return to the broken lab.

_This guy knows how to mess with chemicals…_ The Caped Crusader thought to himself as he vanished into the darkness of the next room. _Another chemical-based villain…_

_…great._

* * *

A/N: Not too much going on in this chapter except for plot. Trying to get the ball rolling, I suppose. That, and I like the Langstroms. ManBat itself is pretty cool, but the Langstroms are wonderful. I hope you enjoyed! Chapter 4 should hopefully be up in a week. Feedback is always welcome.


	4. Chapter 4

I do not own Batman, Alfred Pennyworth, Jervis Tetch (aka The Mad Hatter), or any other named character present. They belong to DC Comics. This was written purely for fun.

* * *

Back in the Batcave, Alfred stood before the large computer screen. His tired eyes were downcast on the expansive keyboard, watching as the feathers of his duster moved back and forth over the keys. They lifted up to the screen from time to time, making sure to monitor any progress in the processing of the Mad Hatter's blood.

He glanced over his shoulder at the bound villain. He was still cringing every now and then, but showed no signs that he was waking up.

Alfred returned his attention to dusting. It was all he could do to keep from dozing off. It had been an early morning for Bruce Wayne, and it was turning into a remarkably late night for Batman. He paused in his cleaning to gaze at the clock on the computer screen. It was nearing 3 o'clock.

As his shoulders slumped in an inaudible sigh, the machine made a "beep" noise. He blinked tiredly and shifted his eyes to the side of the screen. Beneath the words "ManBat Serum" appeared another set of words.

He read the words with vague interest. Master Bruce would certainly find the new information much more intriguing. He reached for the telephone to his right.

His hand came to a halt when he heard a noise from across the cave. He slowly glanced behind him toward the table as a soft groan reached his ears.

The feelings of exhaustion were instantly replaced as panic coursed through the butler's veins. _Can't let him see me!_ He looked frantically to his left and right. He dropped the feather duster on the keyboard and swiftly moved toward where Master Bruce kept his numerous Batman costumes. He quickly threw on one of the capes and grabbed a black mask that covered his eyes. He allowed the cape to drape over his tuxedo.

He hastily and silently ran back to the computer, his wide eyes on Tetch's waking body. He turned back around to the monitor, desperately searching for—

_Master Bruce's hat._ His eyes landed upon Bruce Wayne's fedora, the one he had worn to his meeting that morning. He quickly snatched it up and threw it on his head. Lord, he felt ridiculous…but he couldn't afford to have himself recognized by one of Batman's enemies.

He returned his attention to the computer. He pulled up a window and quickly typed in a message, his fingers moving nimbly across the keyboard. He sent the short message to the Batmobile, notifying the Caped Crusader that their guest was regaining consciousness.

Another soft groan brought his eyes back to Jervis Tetch. The man didn't appear to be moving; he looked like he was just staring up.

With the panic slowly dissipating, Alfred cautiously began approaching the table. The oversized cape dragged across the ground, leaving very little room for his feet to meet the ground. Despite the cape, he was moving very quietly. He continued forward.

* * *

"…ugh…"

Jervis's closed eyes clenched and his mouth tightened into a frown. He drew a deep breath through his nose, pain shooting through his body. His head throbbed with a horrible headache.

He exhaled through his mouth and slowly opened his eyes. He couldn't see anything; the air above him was black. He blinked, mildly confused by the sight, but too disoriented to really put much thought on it. He was too groggy to hear the rapid footsteps somewhere in the distance—

A blanket of agonizing pain covered him, like a pulse from his head through his body, making him cringe. His eyes slammed shut and his body tensed to the point where it was shaking uncontrollably. He could barely feel the restraints across his body as he pressed against them.

Just as suddenly as the feeling came, the pain disappeared, leaving his body aching.

Jervis collapsed against the table he was tethered to, breathing heavily through his mouth. Memories of the past few days came rushing back, bringing a heavy feeling to his stomach. The large amounts of time in which he was unconscious didn't worry him so much as the times when he _was _awake and aware.

He opened his eyes, trying to push those thoughts aside and focus on where he was now. He couldn't see or hear anything. He only knew he was lying on his back—

A soft scrape of a shoe against the ground reached his ears. His eyes shot wide and his body went rigid. _Someone else is here._ He felt his pulse shoot up, a tremble coursing through him. _Oh God, what if it's one of them?!_ He tried to lift himself up, but found himself restrained. He fought against the straps across his chest, arms, and legs to no avail. There now came the sound of rapid footsteps coming toward him. Terror seized him.

"Who's there?!" Jervis yelled in question, sounding beyond panicked. He continued to fight against the restraints and desperately tried to see something, anything.

"Calm down, Mr. Tetch!" a voice called out, still a little distance away. The footsteps never stopped. "Calm down!"

Jervis recognized the accent. He didn't remember anyone having a British accent…and they didn't call him Mr. Tetch. His struggling came to an abrupt halt, but he didn't relax. "Where am I?" he asked the unknown voice, still sounding clearly frightened.

The footsteps slowed to a speedy walk before coming to a stop. The Mad Hatter whipped his head to his left. He found a brooding caped figure standing a few feet away from him. His first thought was that it was Batman, but the person was much too small to be the Dark Knight. The cape hung loosely off of the man's thin shoulders. The man's face was slightly aged and narrower than Batman's…and the cowl was missing. A thin moustache sat over his upper lip. There was a black mask over his eyes, much like the kind he had seen on Harley Quinn. On his head sat a fedora.

If Jervis hadn't been so panicked, he would have laughed. The poor excuse for a disguise looked like it had been thrown together. He simply remained frozen and stared at the unknown man, his eyes darting from feature to feature.

"Where am I?" he asked again.

The caped man hesitated a moment, looking off to his side at something Jervis couldn't see. He gazed back at the bound villain. "You are under the care of Batman," he finally replied.

_Batman._

The Mad Hatter stared at the man for a few silent moments before he breathed a relieved sigh and collapsed back against the table. He returned his eyes up to the darkness above him. "So long as I'm not _there_, anyplace will do…" he mumbled to himself.

In his peripheral, he saw the man cock his head slightly. "…what exactly _happened_ to you?" he asked slowly and apprehensively.

Jervis's eyes shifted to the man without moving his head. "I don't quite know myself," he answered softly. Another wave of pain overcame him, making him wince again. When the feelings passed, he looked back at the man. "All I know is that I've either been unconscious or a stark-raving homicidal lunatic for the past however-many days."

"So you've been aware of your actions?" the caped man asked.

The sandy haired man's eyes returned to the darkness, a deeply concerned look appearing on his face. "Oh, yes," he replied sadly, "I most certainly have."

Alfred stared down at the villain with thoughtful eyes, an eyebrow unconsciously rising. He had expected a criminal to be somewhat proud of their feats. This man didn't sound remotely proud; he sounded like he regretted his actions…

"…It was…" Jervis began reflectively, breaking Alfred from his thoughts. "…it was almost like I was watching myself, outside of my body." He closed his eyes, his brow furrowing as the graphic images displayed in his mind's eye. "It's all like some horrible nightmare."

Before the butler in disguise could respond, the silence that hung in the air between them was interrupted by the sound of an approaching motor. The Batmobile pulled into the Batcave and came to a halt. The Dark Knight jumped out of the vehicle and turned toward the table where the Mad Hatter lay. He faltered in his step when he spotted Alfred, dressed in one of his capes and wearing his hat. He raised an eyebrow, but continued toward the table.

"Nice outfit," the Caped Crusader said discretely to the caped man as he passed him.

"Only the best for you, sir," Alfred shot back in a mild-mannered tone that dripped with sarcasm.

Batman suppressed a grin and looked down at the Mad Hatter. Jervis stared up at the Dark Knight with uneasy eyes. The two just exchanged stares in an uncomfortable silence before the villain blinked. "I suppose I should thank you…" he finally said.

"For what?" Batman asked solemnly, remaining motionless. "I haven't done anything to help you yet."

"That's not quite true," Jervis countered, lifting a finger. "You've somehow managed to—" He stopped short when he cringed again, taking a hissing breath in through clenched teeth.

Batman's brow slightly furrowed at the sight. He waited for Jervis to open his eyes wearily before he spoke again. "Do you have any idea what happened to you?"

The Mad Hatter's eyes strayed to the darkness above him. "I have a vague idea, though I am fairly certain that you may already know more than I."

The Dark Knight raised an eyebrow. "Tell me what you know."

Jervis's eyes slowly closed, focusing past the slaughter to what he did remember. "I had just finished pouring a cup of tea and had just settled in with a book when I heard a thump at my door…"

* * *

_His blue eyes lifted from the text, a curious expression on his face. He leaned slightly to his left to get a better look at the front door. He stared at the threshold for a few seconds in silence before he closed his book and rose to his feet. _

_Cautious steps were taken toward the door. He briefly broke his stare to reach for the ax propped up against the wall. _

_His fingers had barely brushed against the wooden handle when another loud THUMP sounded, followed by the slam of the door hitting the wall. His head whipped back around to the door in time to see a young man bring his foot back down to the floor. _

_Jervis's wide eyes remained on the trespasser for a single moment. He felt his heart beating in his chest and his senses heighten. In a swift movement, he grabbed the ax and took off down the hall, away from the man. Over his own rapid footsteps he could hear three more pairs of feet racing after him. _

_A rough grab was made at him, catching him by the collar of his shirt. A choked yell escaped from Jervis as he was jerked back. His brow furrowed and he grit his teeth, feeling his panic quickly escalating into pure rage. He whirled around and slapped the hand from his shirt, angry eyes locking on the man behind him. He took a swipe at him with the ax._

_The man jumped back away from the madman, looking clearly alarmed. He let out a yelp when the heavy blade sliced his arm open. He made a grab for the blade of the ax._

_Another pair of hands grabbed at Jervis's shirt collar. His enraged eyes shot to his left at the second of the three assailants. He continued to struggle against the man fighting for the ax as he brought a leg up and swiftly drove the heel of his foot into the second man's stomach. As the breath was forced from his body, Jervis threw his shoulder into the man, knocking him off his feet. _

_The Englishman released the ax, sending the bleeding man stumbling back. He whirled around to find the third man—_

_He felt the breath drain from his body as knuckles were buried deep into his stomach. Through the searing pain, he felt his knees buckle beneath him. He collapsed to the ground, an arm wrapped around his bruising stomach and the other pathetically trying to lift himself. _

_Rough fingers grabbed at his sandy hair, yanking his head up. A strained noise escaped from him, sounding like a mix between a yell and a cry. He was hardly able to feel the grip on his locks release and a firm hand press against his forehead to keep his head up. His arms were grabbed and held behind his back, another arm around his chest to keep him upright. His blurred eyes managed to focus on two very angry looking young men, one bleeding. His eyes slightly widened when the other pressed a sickly-sweet smelling rag over his nose and mouth. He felt his muscles loosen and his eyes rolled back into his head. His eyelids fell as his body slumped over, blacking out…_

* * *

_His eyes slowly began to flutter open, his head beginning to clear. He took a strained breath, an ache in his stomach from where he had been punched. _

_"…e's waking…"_

_"…care of…"_

_"…es, sir…"_

_He didn't even get the chance to open his eyes when he felt a needle stick him in the arm. He cringed slightly before he felt something being released into his veins. He opened his eyes, instantly blinded by a bright light above him. He squinted through the light, his blue eyes darting around to find something, anything, that told him something about what was going on. His eyes, however, were still far too unfocused to see anything clearly, as they would remain until he was set loose in Gotham._

* * *

"Each time I started waking up," Jervis said, his eyes still closed, "they would inject me with something and I'd pass out again. It wasn't until I found myself rampaging around Gotham City I realized I had been released."

Batman and Alfred stood in silence, listening to every word of the horrific tale. Alfred turned and glanced at the brooding masked man next to him a few moments after the Hatter had finished speaking.

"That second voice…" Batman finally said, breaking his silence, "describe it to me."

Jervis's brow slightly furrowed in concentration, trying to hear the voice again. "Um…" he began slowly, "he sounded…a little aged. Not old, mind you, but not young either. Sounded American… Articulate? Scholarly, almost…"

"And the other voices?"

Jervis's eyes opened slowly and he glanced up at the Dark Knight. "Hesitant," he immediately said. "Unsure of what they were doing…young; I'd say early twenties."

"And these younger voices," Batman pressed, "did they sound like juveniles on the streets?"

"Oh, no," Jervis replied, "not like any ruffian I've ever heard. No, they sounded almost like the older gentleman."

"If 'gentleman' is what you'd like to call him," Alfred slipped in, looking off toward the computer.

A silence fell over the three men for several moments before Jervis spoke up. "So what do you know already?" he asked quietly, his blue eyes lifting to the Dark Knight.

The masked man stared down at the bound villain. "I know you were injected with something, something that stimulates aggression. I'm analyzing your blood as we speak—"

"You took my blood?" the Hatter asked, a look of concern appearing on his face.

"A sample, yes," Batman confirmed with a slight nod. "I've been running it through my computer. You have been injected with a new kind of serum, I believe, one that triggers aggression and—"

"—and slightly mutates," Jervis concluded.

Batman blinked. "Correct," he said.

"Speaking of the computer," Alfred cut in, bringing the eyes of the Caped Crusader and the Mad Hatter to him, "another component has been isolated."

Batman's eyebrow cocked in interest before he turned and glanced over his shoulder at the massive screen. His eyes widened slightly, then narrowed in confusion. "That can't be right…"

"What?" Jervis asked, now sounding nervous.

The Dark Knight's eyes returned to the Hatter, studying him intently. Jervis felt himself shrink back against the table under the vigilante's scrutinizing eyes, but he stared right back at him.

"My thoughts, too, sir," Alfred said, still staring at the words on the screen. "He isn't showing the classic symptoms."

"…it may be right." As Alfred turned to look at the masked man, Batman moved to the piece of technology. He began typing furiously, running with a hunch. A few seconds later, the computer let out a _ding_ noise. "A little modified, but essentially the same drug," the Caped Crusader said at last, still studying the screen.

"And what exactly is this drug, pray tell?" Jervis asked, growing peeved that he was being kept out of the loop.

"Fear toxin," Batman finally unveiled.

Jervis's eyes shot wide. "_Jonathan's_ fear toxin?" he heard himself repeat.

"Well, his anti-fear toxin, to be more precise," Batman explained, bringing a gloved finger to his chiseled chin. He studied the chemical compound on the screen with intent eyes. "It looks like it may have been mixed with another one of his specific toxins: the one that triggers when adrenaline is pumping." In a swift movement, he returned to the Hatter's side and gave Alfred a sidelong gaze. "It's beginning to look like we're dealing with a very talented chemist of sorts…"

"And a thief," the butler added wryly.

"A thief…" Jervis repeated quietly, bringing the disguised men's eyes to him. The Mad Hatter's head turned and he gave Batman a worried look. "This guy took Jonathan's toxins?"

Batman remained motionless as a sense of dread subtly blanketed over him. "I can't be sure until I go and investigate," he replied in a flat voice, "but first thoughts point to yes. Two young men broke into the Langstrom laboratory to steal the ManBat serum; chances of the same happening to the Scarecrow are pretty high."

Another silence hung in the air over the three. Alfred looked back and forth between the hero and the villain as the two stared at each other.

Jervis's eyes slightly widened when he realized what Batman was waiting for. "Oh no…" he began in an incredulous voice, "I can't tell you where Jonathan is staying."

"You can," Batman began in a low voice, "and you will."

"Jonathan will have my head if he finds out I told you!" Jervis protested.

"He's not going to find out," Batman replied, sounding anything but reassuring. "Besides, if someone broke into his home like they did with Langstrom and you, he could have been hurt." He paused when Jervis's face softened in reflection, allowing his words to sink in and try to be comprehended in his chaotic and unstable mind. "I know Crane is your friend…"

The Mad Hatter's eyes fell from the Caped Crusader. "He is…" he agreed softly. He sat in a heavy silence, considering. "If I tell you," he finally began at length, "you _can't_ tell him that I told you." His eyes shot to the vigilante, hardened and coated with a thin layer of madness. "You have to _promise_ me that you won't tell him," he said firmly, "and that you won't take him to Arkham."

Batman raised an eyebrow, but continued to stare down at the criminal. "And if I do?" he ventured to ask.

Sandy eyebrows lowered over Tetch's hostile glare. He slowly pressed his body against the straps holding him down, only managing to close the gap between himself and the Dark Knight by a few inches. "If you do," he began in a low and vicious voice, "then I will find a way to control whatever is wrong with me, and I _will_ use it against you."

The Caped Crusader remained completely motionless, his face rock hard. He received threats on a daily basis; he was plenty used to it. Such a violent threat from the Mad Hatter, which still had to be taken seriously, didn't seem probable. In his peripheral, however, he saw Alfred squirm slightly.

_…maybe it was probable. _Whatever was in his blood _did_ increase his aggressive behavior… While the Mad Hatter was not considered to be one of the stronger villains, he was definitely one of the most insane. He was well aware of the violent mood swings he experienced. With an unstable mind, that added chemical element made Jervis Tetch incredibly dangerous.

"…very well," Batman finally said. No chances could be taken…not with a new villain on the loose. He didn't want an enraged Mad Hatter to get in the way of his investigation. He had nothing on Crane right now, anyway, besides the fact that he escaped from Arkham Asylum a few months back. Of course, Jervis had done the same…

He saw Alfred shoot him a look, but the vigilante's eyes remained fixed on the Hatter. "So long as I don't find him doing anything illegal, I won't take him in." He paused when Jervis's brow remained hard and he continued to glare up at him. "…and I won't tell him anything about you. Deal?"

A smirk slowly spread across Jervis's face, but his eyes kept their angry appearance. "Deal," the Mad Hatter replied.

Once the location was given, the Caped Crusader turned to take his leave. "I'll be back soon. Perhaps a brief interrogation with the Scarecrow will yield more clues."

"Just make sure Jonathan is alright," Jervis remarked, more concerned for his friend's well-being than the Batman's investigation.

The Dark Knight turned and gave the Mad Hatter a brief stare before glancing over at Alfred. "Keep an eye on him. Sedate him if he gets out of hand."

"Yes sir."

Turning back around, Batman continued walking toward the Batmobile. He felt the deep frown on his face and a weight on his shoulders. First a conversation with Kirk Langstrom…now he was going to break into Jonathan Crane's new laboratory. His eyes lowered to his utility belt and his fingers reached into a certain pocket. He had to make sure he had the antidote to the Scarecrow's fear gas, in case the lanky man did infect him.

He lifted his eyes back up to the dark vehicle and he took a deep breath. What a night this was turning out to be…

* * *

A/N: Jervis has finally woken up! Horray! Not much action yet, but there will be some before this thing ends, I promise. We have to get through the investigation first.

Something has to be said: I am a working college student. My time is starting to become a little strained. I will keep trying to get these chapters posted every week, but please, don't hold your breath. The chapters are going to start getting longer probably around chapter 6, so I will need more time to work on them. Really, though, I will try to keep posting on Saturdays, but my school work has to come first.

Thank you so much for reading! Feedback is always welcome!


	5. Chapter 5

I do not own Batman, Jonathan Crane (aka the Scarecrow), or any other named character present. They belong to DC Comics. This was written purely for fun.

* * *

It wasn't a long drive from the Batcave to this run-down building located in Old Gotham. The Dark Knight avoided the main road to get here and opted to stray away to the back roads, away from Crime Alley and any haunting events he couldn't have clouding his mind tonight. He had been off training in other countries when this part of Gotham had started to decay. When he had returned after several years, crime had overrun Old Gotham; the streets were littered with both trash and the garbage of society.

_A run-down pharmacy…_ The Gotham Drug Store had been out of business for as long as he could remember… It almost had an apothecary-like feel to it. It was probably for that reason that no other businesses had taken the building.

Batman had made it a point to park a few blocks away. He didn't want to have the criminal inside the building know that he was in the area. He needed to have the element of surprise on his side if he wanted to get out of this without the man's fear toxin coursing through his veins. He was atop the building across the street from the pharmacy, simply observing for any signs of life. He could just barely make out a soft outline of light shining dully through the cracks of the boarded up windows on the ground floor.

He just wasn't entirely sure if it was truly the Scarecrow who was currently inside.

Jervis Tetch had reluctantly given him the address and showed genuine concern for his friend, but even then, Batman couldn't be entirely certain that the Hatter was telling the truth. But with little else to go on, he had no other choice but to trust Jervis.

After a lonely car had sped through a red light (he was a little surprised to see that the traffic signal was even functioning), the Dark Knight carefully made his way over the street to the roof of the pharmacy. He had scanned each side of the building previously and had decided on which opening to use as an entrance.

One of the few remaining windows that were intact was silently pulled open. The vigilante swiftly entered the building, his senses sharp. He found himself on the second floor of the building, one that probably served as a loft back when business flourished. The wooden boards that lined the floor were littered with old newspaper articles, turning a strange shade of yellow in age. His eyes scanned the area, looking for a way to make it to the other side of the room without rattling the newspaper. He carefully lifted a heavily-booted foot and placed it down gingerly on a clear area.

He nearly cringed when a loud creak filled the silent void. Not only did he have to deal with the littered floor, but with the old floorboards themselves. He held his breath and turned an ear to the doorway, listening for any movement beyond the threshold.

When none came, he hastily made his way across the room. He managed to push the door open with minimal noise. The hallway past the doorway was much clearer than the room he had just been in, but the floorboards continued to squeak under his weight. He made his way down the hall toward a staircase. A faint glow barely lit the bottom of the stairs. Over the noise of the creaking floor, he could make out sounds of glass gently colliding.

Careful steps were taken to reach the bottom of the stairs, his skilled feet placed along the walls to reduce the creaking. He peeked through the small opening beneath the door hinges into the next room.

The sound of tinkering glass grew louder as he honed his hearing in on anything going on beyond the doorway. A moment was taken to allow his eyes to adjust to the lighting change, and he was soon examining the area. The signs of decay were just as evident in here as they were outside; the glass from the broken windows remained on the ground. Whoever had boarded up the windows hadn't swept the area before leaving. His skilled eye managed to find a fairly new pathway along the dusty floors. The path started at the doorway and continued past a wall, blocking the vigilante's line of vision.

He drew back away from the door and studied the ancient hinges. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out a small bottle. He carefully lubricated the old metal. After he replaced the bottle into its specific compartment in his belt, he gingerly placed his gloved hands on the door. Thankfully, it opened silently. He slowly entered the next room.

He swiftly stalked his way along the walls and peeked toward the source of light.

Sure enough, working in the soft glow of a lamp was Jonathan Crane: the Scarecrow. He was using the abandoned counter as his workstation. Atop the cleared area stood a variety of beakers and test tubes, each containing their own certain chemical. The tall lanky man himself had his back to the vigilante, studying the different compounds. He was currently hunched over the counter, his hand scribbling down notes.

Batman's eyes briefly turned to study the rest of the abandoned pharmacy. Aside from that path in the dust settled on the ground, there wasn't any other sign of a break-in. Then again, it was hard to tell, given how decayed the building had become. His eyes returned to Crane; the auburn-haired man didn't seem to have been harmed from where he was standing.

Jonathan Crane put his pen down and returned his attention to the chemicals laid out before him. A thin finger lifted to his face and pushed his reading glasses back up into place. He leaned his thin form over the counter and brought himself down to eye-level with the chemicals. His dark eyes examined each of the glasses holding the liquids—

Something caught his eye. He glanced back at one of the beakers, not looking at the liquid inside, but at the reflection of the area behind him. His eyes widened when he spotted a darkened figure hiding behind a wall, watching him. A quick pulse of panic surged through him, but he instantly composed himself before he could whirl around. He kept still as his eyes narrowed and moved to his left. A hand slowly and carefully reached into his jacket. He pulled a canister of his beloved fear gas from his breast pocket and held it firmly in calm fingers. Deliberately, he began to straighten and shift his weight to the balls of his feet. He could feel his muscles tightening involuntarily, much like his eyes were slowly dilating; the fight or flight response, he knew it to be. Fight or flight? The grip on the canister tightened and he set his jaw.

A quick breath was drawn as Jonathan whirled around. He threw his right arm forward, the one holding the fear gas. His eyes instantly shot to where the Batman had been standing—

The Dark Knight's hands wrapped around the Scarecrow's thin wrists. A yelp escaped from the lanky man as the vigilante twisted the arm the canister was in. As the fear gas fell from his fingers, Batman threw the villain against the wall, pinning him there with a firm grip still on his wrists.

Jonathan cringed when his fragile form hit the wall, a painful gasp leaving him. "Unhand me!" he snarled furiously, turning his head to glare at the vigilante. He winced again when Batman tightened his grip. "Unhand me this instant!"

The Caped Crusader ignored the demands and glanced down at the ground to where the canister had fallen. With a swift kick, the canister rolled across the room, well out of Crane's reach. One of his hands lifted and pressed against the squirming man's chest, feeling for any other canisters.

When none were found, he released the Scarecrow and took a large step back. He allowed his cape to hang down over his muscled form and his eyes locked on the thin villain in a dominating glare.

Jonathan instantly drew his right arm up and cradled it against his chest, his teeth clenched and looking like he was in pain. He shot Batman a livid glare. "What the _**Hell**_ are you doing here?!"

Batman remained motionless. "I'm here to ask you a few questions," he said in a low voice. "I didn't come here to harm you."

"A little late for that, _Batman_," Crane snarled as he pulled back the sleeve covering his right arm. Circling his wrist and going maybe half-way up his forearm was a brace.

_So he was harmed…_ "Now how did that happen?" the Dark Knight asked, pseudo-concern in his voice.

"You're the detective," Crane shot back as he pulled his sleeve back into place. "Figure it out."

The caped man studied the Scarecrow with knowing eyes. "Someone broke into this building maybe a week ago," he began matter-of-factly, "and confronted you. They demanded two of your toxins: your anti-fear toxin and the one you used on those athletes a few years back. You refused, so they decided to take it by force. They attacked you, spraining your wrist in the brief fight that ensued. They probably threatened your life or your freedom, so you finally gave in. As soon as they had what they came for, they left."

Jonathan Crane stared at the vigilante with mildly surprised eyes. "Your investigation skills are improving…" he finally said in a small voice, still quite struck.

"Care to add to that?" Batman asked, brushing off Crane's revelation.

The tall villain quickly recovered his hard exterior and scrutinized the caped man before him. "And help with your ongoing investigation?" he asked callously. "Please…"

The vigilante felt his eyes narrow on the Scarecrow, getting irritated by his outright stubbornness. He hunched his shoulders slightly, giving his caped form more of a brooding feel. "You will tell me what you know," he threatened, "voluntarily or otherwise."

Crane continued to glare at the Caped Crusader with hostile eyes. He turned his thin body to face the vigilante and he crossed his arms over his thin chest. He kept his mouth resolutely shut. The corners of his lips curled slightly at the angry look he received in light of his defiance. The air between the two was silent.

Batman's brow furrowed deeply and he took an aggressive step forward.

The thin man flinched instinctively, raising his arms up toward his chest in defense and his eyes slamming shut at the possibility of a punch. When he felt nothing, he glanced back at the vigilante and sighed deeply. "All right, all right…" he finally groaned in defeat, rolling his eyes. "It was a group of three young men who came _waltzing_ in here a little over a week ago." A wicked smirk spread across his face as he leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "I managed to gas one of them… Aichmophobia, the fear of sharp and pointed objects; I suppose all the broken glass lying about didn't help to calm his nerves," he chuckled, the sound of the man's wails and cries resounding in his head. "He's probably locked up in Gotham General right now… I'm afraid he won't respond too well to what the doctors are trying to give him."

Batman continued to stare at Crane after his narrative had ended, leaving them in a tense silence. This man had no respect for humanity… Batman had no idea what Tetch saw in him to call him his friend. But, he mused…this did give him a lead. He'd have to check the hospital and find out more about this person.

"I suppose you'll be taking me back to Arkham now, right?" Crane sneered, his smirk disappearing completely and pulling the vigilante from his thoughts.

"No," Batman replied as his eyes began to examine the pharmacy again. There was nothing that stuck out that he could collect as evidence… His eyes returned to the Scarecrow. "No, I'm not here to take you to Arkham just yet."

"Well, that's _awfully_ kind of you," the Scarecrow sniped in a voice that dripped with sarcasm.

The vigilante felt the corner of his mouth draw back into a scowl and his brow harden, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He took a step back and drew his cape tighter around him. "Be wary of your surroundings, Crane," Batman said in spite of himself.

Jonathan shot the caped man an icy glare. "Is that a threat?"

"It's a warning," the Dark Knight explained, a bite to his words. "Something's going on in Gotham…"

The lanky man's eyes narrowed on the brooding figure before him. He looked like he had another question on the tip of his tongue, but he remained silent.

"Just watch your back," Batman finally concluded. When Crane rolled his eyes and returned to his work station, he let out an inaudible sigh. He kept his eyes locked on his villain as he took silent steps backward. He slipped out of the building and stalked off into the night.

* * *

A/N: I think I should probably make this known: This piece will include some comicbook references. I know it's under Cartoon Batman: The Animated Series, but I outlined it with some comicbook elements to it. Don't worry, though, I'll be sure to explain what is going on so no one is left in the dark.

I am also going to say that the next chapter probably won't come out next Saturday... It's going to be a long one, and I've barely outlined it, let alone started writing it. I'll try to, but don't hold your breath.

Hmm...yes. This is pretty much just more plot development. Things will hopefully start coming together after this next chapter. Oh, and Chapter 6 will have more Jervis.

So, I thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this newest chapter. Feedback is always welcome!


	6. Chapter 6

I do not own Batman, Alfred Pennyworth, Jervis Tetch (aka the Mad Hatter), or any other named character present. They belong to DC Comics. Quotes and poems are from Lewis Carroll's _Alice in Wonderland _and _Through the Looking Glass_. This was written purely for fun.

A few days late, but here it is. I decided to break up the chapter into two. It was getting way too long.

* * *

As soon as the call had been disconnected, Batman heaved a weary sigh. His exhausted eyes remained fixed on the road before him as he navigated the Batmobile back toward Wayne Manor. As if his brief interaction with the Scarecrow hadn't left him tired, the call he had just had with Police Commissioner Jim Gordon left him drained. Gordon agreed to check out the hospitals for a lead on the man Crane had gassed, although he was a little more than reluctant. He made sure to tell the vigilante he didn't like being kept out of the loop on such a big case, but Batman had tried to reassure him that he would inform him when he found something out. With little else to go on, Gordon complied.

Hopefully that fellow with Crane's fear toxins in his blood was still in the hospital, or at least his paperwork was on file. So long as another piece was added to the puzzle to make it look less like a number of fragmented pieces and more like a complete picture…

His eyes drifted to the clock on the dashboard. It was getting close to four in the morning… He focused back on the road. He knew his night was far from over…there was one major thing to do before he could get a little bit of sleep, and it would be an adventure in and of itself.

* * *

It was a few minutes after four o'clock when the Batmobile pulled into the Batcave. He was honestly surprised to see that Alfred had pulled up a chair beside the Mad Hatter. The two were having a civil conversation…

The disguised butler was the first to fall silent when Batman approached. He stood up and greeted the caped man with a polite nod.

Jervis stared up at the Dark Knight with concerned eyes. "Is Jonathan alright?" he asked, an element of worry clearly evident in his voice.

"Crane is fine," Batman replied, his eyes falling briefly to Tetch. "Just a sprained wrist; nothing serious." As Jervis let out a small relieved sigh, the Caped Crusader's eyes shifted to the butler. "So, what were you two discussing?"

"Oh," Alfred began with a faint smile, "we were just talking about England and what it was like growing up there. Mr. Tetch here and I actually went to the same primary school. Imagine the…" he trailed off when the vigilante shot him a harsh look.

Batman gave Jervis a quick glare before he dragged a startled Alfred a few paces away. They came to a stop with their backs to the Mad Hatter. "Do I need to remind you that 'Mr. Tetch' over there is a _convicted felon?"_ he asked in a hushed voice, anger lacing each word.

The butler gently shooed the vigilante's gloved hand from his arm. "I am well aware of the man's criminal record, sir," he replied curtly.

"Oh, so you don't see the problem with sharing some of your personal history with him, then. Is that it?" Batman quipped.

"It's not like I gave him my social security number, sir," Alfred shot back. "Do you honestly think I'd give him clues to my identity?"

"If," Jervis piped in from across the cave, giving both the caped men curious looks, "it's your identity you're worried about, Batman, you have no reason to fret. I could have found out years ago, but opted not to. I'm not interested."

The two standing men stared at the table-bound Hatter, one with eyes that shot daggers. "And why's that?" Batman asked harshly.

Jervis managed a small shrug against the straps that held him down and flashed a grin. "It's not whoever's beneath that mask that I despise with every fiber of my being," he replied casually. "Just you." As Alfred turned and gazed up at the vigilante, Jervis's grin widened. "I even tried to give that other identity of yours the life he's always wanted, but you had to be a spoilsport and ruin everything." He said that last part with a slight pout. "How _did_ you figure your way out of my dream machine? I've been dying to know."

Batman stared at the Mad Hatter with calculating and angry eyes. He could feel Alfred staring at him; the Caped Crusader had told Alfred everything after the event, everything he had seen in his dream world…his parents…Selina…_happiness_. He told him that he had to hurl himself off of a building to wake up from the lie. The event had thrown him into a deep depression, and Jervis Tetch was responsible for it. Oh, how Bruce Wayne hated this bucktoothed, blonde, insane man… It mattered very little that the Mad Hatter's crimes were less violent than the rest of his Rogue Gallery; Tetch had broken his psyche for a brief period of time.

And he hated the man for it.

The gentle hum of the oversized computer contrasted greatly with the heaviness and the malevolence in the air. The hero and the villain just stared at each other, the Hatter waiting patiently for an answer he would never get. It wasn't until the butler quietly spoke up that the silence was broken. "Did you find anything out from your interrogation with Mr. Crane?"

Eyes shifted to Alfred from beneath the pointed cowl. "There is one possible new lead. Commissioner Gordon is checking it out."

"Then perhaps you should call it a night—er, morning, sir," Alfred said, glancing over at the time on the computer screen.

"Not yet," Batman replied, sounding more tired than he wished to. "There's one more thing I need to do before that."

As Alfred lifted an eyebrow, the Dark Knight turned and looked over at the Mad Hatter. "You said you managed to cut one of your assailants with that ax when they attacked you?"

Jervis nodded, his brow slightly furrowing at the memory of the break-in.

"Then there is evidence that needs to be collected," Batman concluded, his eyes never leaving the Mad Hatter.

The villain gave the vigilante an incredulous look, one that questioned the vigilante's sanity. "Do you honestly think I'll tell you where _I'm_ living?!" he asked blatantly. When the Dark Knight didn't reply, the Mad Hatter shook his head. "'The eldest Oyster winked his eye and shook his heavy head—meaning to say he did not choose to leave the oyster-bed,'" he replied quickly.

"I don't have time for your rhymes, Tetch," Batman growled. "There is someone out there endangering the lives of Gotham's civilians, but he's going after you criminals first. Look at what he did to you! I need to catch him before he does something worse and bring him to justice."

"Justice is a funny thing…" Jervis replied bitterly and trailed off, his eyes finally shifting away from the vigilante.

"That blood in your living quarters could break this case, Tetch," Batman prodded.

"Then I could bring you a sample," the Hatter replied.

The remark inherited an incredulous look from the Caped Crusader. "I am not letting you back out into the city," he said firmly. "You are far too dangerous to go out alone right now. If you are to go out, it'll be with me."

"Then I guess I'll be here for a while then, hmm?" Jervis shot back in a stubborn voice, his blue eyes returning to the brooding figure, who was growing more and more irritated.

"Tetch," Batman began in a dangerously quiet voice, "one way or another, we are going to go to—"

"'Beautiful Soup, so rich and green, waiting in a hot tureen!'" Jervis sang loudly to drown out the vigilante's words, his eyes now shut tight. "'Who for such dainties would not stoop?!'"

Batman threw his arms in the air with great annoyance and an angry growl before he shot Alfred a frustrated glare as the rhyme continued boisterously. "'Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup! Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!'"

As the Mad Hatter paused his nonsensical rhyming to take a huge breath, Alfred spoke. "Mr. Tetch," he began gently, lifting a finger ever-so-slightly. The noisy poem came to an abrupt halt as the blonde man turned and looked at the butler. "Perhaps you should allow Batman to enter your home." He continued hastily as Jervis opened his mouth to protest. "It'll give you the chance to change out of your blood spattered clothing—"

"Blood spattered?!" Jervis repeated in a horrified tone. He tried to take a look for himself, but the straps across his body made it a little more than difficult. "I'm covered in _blood?!"_

"Yes," the English butler and Caped Crusader answered in unison.

An extremely uncomfortable and disgusted look formed on the English madman's face. His blue eyes finally returned to the vigilante. "Fine," he said at length and with great conviction, "but at least give me a little bit of a head start in moving my things once this is all over."

"Fine," Batman replied with reluctance of his own. He undid the binds across the Hatter's body and pointed a gloved finger across the cave toward a doorway. "Go wash yourself off before we go."

Jervis slowly sat up on the table, his curious eyes unable to not be drawn to the crimson coloring all over his clothing. He cringed and shot his eyes to the air above him, trying not to look at the blood. "T-Thank you," he mumbled to the Dark Knight as he swung his legs over the edge of the table.

A moment was taken for him to steady himself on his feet. "'Beautiful Soup. Who cares for fish, game, or any other dish?'" the blonde Hatter continued the rhyme nervously to fill the void of silence. He moved toward the doorway, his back to the two caped men. "'Who would not give all else for two pennyworth only of beautiful Soup?'"

_Pennyworth?!_ Batman's eyes shot to the butler.

Alfred Pennyworth stared after the Mad Hatter with a mildly shocked expression on his face.

'"Pennyworth only of beautiful Soup?"' were the last words that sounded before the Mad Hatter disappeared behind the door.

"Didn't give him clues to your identity, hmm?" Batman growled in a voice hardly above a whisper.

"I didn't!" Alfred replied hurriedly and just as quietly, turning and glancing up at the Caped Crusader with startled eyes for a brief moment. "It's part of the poem! What made him recite that one, though, I'm not sure…" he trailed off as he looked back toward where Jervis had disappeared to. "There is no way the man can know me, sir. Do you suppose it was just part of his rhymes?"

"There is no knowing with him," Batman sighed, shaking his head hopelessly. "You've done nothing to him, so you should be safe." He paused and took a calming breath, his eyes turning to give the butler a curious gaze. "How did you know talk of his clothes would make him change his mind?"

Alfred's lips curled slightly with a knowing smile. "As I was saying, sir; we went to the same primary school. They taught the children there to be quite persnickety about appearance."

* * *

"Alright, you can take that off now."

Jervis slightly jumped at the sudden sound of Batman's voice over the noise of the Batmobile. He cautiously lifted his cuffed hands toward his face and removed the blindfold, blinking several times to adjust his vision. He slowly began to look around the vehicle, making sure not to look at the vigilante in the driver's seat or down at his blood-stained overcoat. His eyes soon fixed on the window to his right, looking out beyond the glass at the passing woods and the night sky.

Batman's eyes shifted briefly to the blonde man seated next to him, but he remained silent. The man had removed what was left of his gloves and had washed the blood away from his hands and face. As soon as he had been handcuffed and blindfolded, the Dark Knight told Alfred that he could go to bed. Alfred didn't argue about it and watched the Batmobile drive off into the night.

"Just how far away from Gotham do you live?" Jervis's curious voice piped up, breaking the vigilante from his thoughts.

Batman's eyes cut to the Mad Hatter, a touch of suspicion written on his face. "Why?" he asked a little more harshly than he intended to.

Jervis flinched slightly at the bite of the words and his eyes drifted back to the window. "Well…" he began quietly, "I can see the stars." As Batman glanced back over at him, he continued. "You can never see the stars in Gotham. If it's not the clouds that are hiding them, it's the light."

"Since when have you been a star-gazer?" Batman asked, racking his head for any mention of stars in the works of Lewis Carroll.

A soft chuckle filled the cabin of the car as Jervis's eyes fell from the stars in the sky to fall on something he only he could see. "I suppose I have Alice to thank," he finally answered, smiling fondly at a memory.

The Dark Knight may not have shown any change in his facial features, but he suddenly felt on edge. When the Mad Hatter wasn't living in his Wonderland-deluded fantasy, he was just terribly depressed and unpredictable Jervis Tetch. Him talking about Alice Pleasance, though her rejection happened years and years ago, had led to his fall into insanity and he was sure that the subject was still very sensitive.

"It was a little after she started dating that _Lizard_," Jervis began, his face hardening in distaste at the mention of Billy, "back when I still worked at Wayne Enterprises."

His face softened and he smiled. "We got out late one day in the winter, after the sun had gone down. We were standing outside, waiting for her _escort_ to arrive. She looked up at the sky with those gorgeous blue eyes of hers and sighed. I looked up to see what was wrong. It was a clear night… 'You could not see a cloud, because no cloud was in the sky.'" He shook his head at the rhyme and continued, glancing over at the vigilante. "So, by Gotham's standards, it was a beautiful night. I told her that, and she looked back up."

The story paused as the blonde man's eyes went skyward, looking past the glass up at the stars. "She said if there was one thing she hated about living in the city, it was that she couldn't see the stars. She went on about how, back where she grew up, she could always look up into the night and the universe would be laid out for her. Imagine…having such a spectacle always above our heads, but missing out on it because we're too caught up in life…"

The blue orbs fell slightly, not focused on anything. "Her escort arrived. She wished me a good night, but I was still thinking about what she had said. As she and that _Lizard_ drove off, I came to a realization… Since I moved to Gotham, I've always had my nose buried in a book or was too busy working to take notice of these things. Back in England, I was an avid star gazer. I lost that when I came here…"

Jervis sighed lightly, slouching in his seat somewhat. "It wasn't until Alice pointed it out that I realized you can never see the stars in Gotham. After that, I started seeing so many flaws with this city…"

A silence filled the air in the cabin. The Dark Knight's eyes shifted from the road to the heavens above, then to Jervis, and then back to the road flying below them. Up ahead, he could see the obnoxious glow of Gotham.

"It wasn't always this bad," Batman mumbled in spite of himself. When Jervis peered over at the vigilante, he continued. "Gotham wasn't always like this."

"What happened?" Jervis asked.

Batman set his jaw and locked his eyes on the road, trying not to allow the hollow gunshots and the sound of falling pearls fill his head, followed by the horrendous screams that have haunted him each and every waking moment of his life. He swallowed the lump in his throat and his brow furrowed. "…the good was overrun by evil," he said at last.

Not a word was spoken between the two for the remainder of the trip. They were both lost in their memories, haunted by visions and voices from happier times with violent ends.

* * *

A/N: So, I hope you enjoyed this. More Jervis in this chapter, so I'm happy about that. He will be in this story much more from now on. I know next to nothing about Jervis Tetch's past, so that part was made up. Wouldn't it be some strange coincidence if he and Alfred went to the same school? Haha.

Oh, and that's actually how that poem goes, _Turtle Soup._ I was pleasantly surprised to read it.

The actual trip to Jervis's abode will be the next chapter. Thanks for your patience and thank you for reading. Feedback is always welcome!


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